


Good Fucking Morning

by Lizardlicks



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, Bulges and Nooks, Dubious Consent, Feralstuck, Fingerfucking, First Time, Illustrated, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multiple Orgasms, Size Difference, Unreliable Narrator, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-14 23:38:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10546298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizardlicks/pseuds/Lizardlicks
Summary: Cronus helps Eridan through his first heat.  Because he's such a nice guy like that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Lovely little doodle by http://jashindamnit.tumblr.com/

A sharp pain in your shoulder kicks you abruptly out of sleep.  Shit, it was sucha nice dream too, and now some rude glubber has to go and ruin it by trying to murder you in your sleep, and-

Eridan.  It’s Eridan, he’s wrapped all tight around you like he could crawl under your skin if he tried hard enough, and his teeth are dug into your shoulder.  He whimpers when you dig fingers into his scruff and haul his head back.  Doesn’t even close his mouth, just pants, and drools, and whines, “Croooo,” in that insufferable tone he uses when he’s trying to get something from you.  Then he moans, a little breathless, and grinds his hips against your side. 

He smells like sex.  He’s absolutely reeking of lust, and need, and _fuck-me-now_.  Wow, okay, that explains why you’re already half unsheathed and leaking out your nook, he’s flooding the whole den with mating pheromones.  Looks like the kid finally hit his first fertile season.  About damn time.  You can’t really even call him a kid anymore for all he’s still smaller than you.  He’s been a late bloomer from the start, and now he’s definitely jumped that last hurdle, and landed smack in the middle of prime young adult.  Even if he doesn’t know it yet.   

That’s okay, you’ve showed him the ropes with everything else.  You’re just a considerate kind of guy like that, of course you’ll help him through his first heat too.  He gets as far as “Cro, please, I nee-”  before the fingers of your free hand are pushing aside the lashing thickness of his bulge and pressing against the soft space beneath it.  He gasps and goes rigid, claws digging into your tougher hide, tail lashing furiously behind him.   

“Shush, Danny, I got ya.”  You let go of your grip on his neck and cup the back of his head, nuzzle against his fin.  “Gonna make you feel good, don’t worry.” 

He sighs hard, like he’s been holding his breath, and slumps, sinking down against your fingers.  Hnng yes, he’s so fucking slick already, tight enough to squeeze your fingers together, but moving in and out there’s hardly any resistance at all.  Kid’s a quick learner too, he doesn’t need much encouragement to start humping your hand.  He rolls back against your fingers, taking you right down past your second knuckles without any direction.  The moan that falls out of his gaping mouth makes your tail and toes curl, and he grinds his bulge into your palm as he comes up again, nook sucking at your digits. 

“More,” he half growls out the word.  God damn, he’s so desperate to get filled, you can’t possibly be this needy when you’re in season.  Maybe it’s just that it’s his first time, or that it didn’t hit him until late.  Yeah, he’s all pent up, that must be it.  You oblige him a third finger to fuck himself on, and revel in the defeated little sound he makes.  Your own bulge, now fully out and seeking, throbs and curls against his thigh.  You lick into his open, gasping mouth and think about how nice it could be to fuck him there.  Maybe he’ll suck you off if you give him enough encouragement. 

Eridan’s claws flex and knead against your hide while he chirps against your lips.  He’s all soft yielding, and tense rippling in turns, drawing you in to drown you with his desire.  He’s content with what you’re doing to his nook for about a minute before he groans another frustrated, “More!”

You nip his fin, eliciting a whine.  “Greedy brat.  Get on your belly, I’ll stuff you until you can’t walk.” 

“Yes, oh god!”  You have never seen him move that fast.  He rolls off you, and instinct guides him right, tells him to lift his cute ass in the air and curl his tail forward until it tickles his ear fins.  Oh yeah, that’s good.  That’s an amazing fucking picture right there.  His bulge is so cute writhing between his legs, hardly half as long as yours, and his nook is dripping thick violet, and already puffy, and twitching from the way you worked him with your fingers.  Your bulge twists almost painfully.  So maybe you can get a little eager too, but who could blame a guy being literally presented a sex hungry virgin’s tight nook? 

Cod.  He is a virgin isn’t he?  You’re going to be the first to fuck that, fill him up until he comes sobbing your name.  He so small and tight, there’s no way he’ll take your whole bulge, but you’re sure as fuck going to try anyway.  The absolutely feral sound that thought pulls out of you makes him shiver.   

“Cronus...”  He swallows, looking back over his shoulder at you, looking right at the fat tendril you call your bulge.  You smirk at him, and give it a squeeze, just for his benefit, and he swallows again.  “I don’t think that’s gonna fit.” 

“Trust me, it’ll fit,” you say, waving aside that you had the exact same thought only a second ago.  He’s still kind of a pipsqueak, and not lifting his ass up nearly high enough.  You don’t want to kneel with your knees on the den floor, no thank you.  Did not sign up for bruises and an aching back this morning.  So you grab his tail and pull him up by it.  He chirps in surprise at the sudden rough handling, face meeting the dirt as he goes up on his toes.  That’s better. 

You have to keep a grip on his tail to keep him steady, but the angle is perfect.  You only have to crouch a little, and now it’s easy to guide the tip of your bulge to tease against his entrance.  You hold yourself there, play with him just enough to get him impatient and begging again. 

“Please.  Please, Cro, c’mon, just- yes!  Ahhh, oh god, fuck yeeessss!” 

“Y- yeah,” you echo him, sliding into wet, clinging heat.  He ripples around you, squeezing, and you have to suck your lip between your fangs, and bite down. 

Eridan squeezes his eyes shut and sobs.  You’re taking him slow as you can, but it’s torture to hold back.  You might go mad, he feels so nice, but there’s not enough nook to bury your full length in.  He’s not open enough yet, still too early in his cycle and inexperienced.  You stall out with still a couple inches left above your knot, and Eridan writhing, and gasping, “Stop, you’re too big!  Stop!”

You growl and lash inside him, so confined you can’t really move, not properly.  He’s twitching and spasming around you, too-full nook desperate for more, but still unused to this, unsure about what to do with the length you’ve already given him.   

“Cro,”  he whimpers. “I can’t.  No more, I can’t do this.”  

“Sure you can, babe.  Here, just let me...”  You reach down, catch his bulge in between your fingers and slide it through them.  He straight up squeaks.  When you pull it back behind him, it reflexively coils around your bulge, searching to find your own nook at the base, but he’s not nearly long enough to reach.  He won’t be able to tie with you properly, not yet.  Next season maybe.  For now his bulge is just enough to wrap the naked length of yours and squeeze it.  It’s not the same as a proper fuck.  God, you want to take him down to your sheath, watch his nook swallow your fat knot and fill him with it, maybe have his eager little cock plugged nice and deep as it will go in you too, but this will have to do. 

He can’t even hold still now.  There’s tears beading at the corners of his eyes, pale lilac and so fucking pretty.  Even without taking your knot he still makes for a lovely show, stretched wide around you, and twitching away from you and then back again, torn between uncertainty and instinct.  His body still needs this, he still wants it.  You chirp at him, crooning halfway between pale and flush, and pet his back.  He trembles when he replies, soft and subdued, then presses back against you. 

You fuck him slow, twisting your bulge deeper by the tiniest increments.  Apparently it doesn’t take much to make Eridan come like that.  You weren’t expecting him to tense then shudder fins to fanny after just a little slow humping.  Fuck, and you were just getting into it too, fucking god damn it!  He sniffles as he spills, violet slurry spreading cold beneath you, and his bulge slips away, retracting as he wrings himself out with little choking noises.  You can feel his nook open, sucking to pull you in, readying for your own spill.  His seed flap dilates, but it doesn’t quite let you in.  You sink deeper, just enough for him to brush the top of your knot, teasing and flirting and goading you on, fuuuuuck.  If you could, if you just- 

You can feel the steady drip of pleasure that’s slowly rolling into orgasm, practically kissing close, but not yet there.  Eridan starts to slump, trembling legs no longer able to support him, and he slides back down your bulge, leaving it cold and naked.  Frustrated to the point of desperation, you wrap your arms under his hips and pick him up until his toes are actually dangling, and he yelps again.  The new position gives you freedom to move, gives him enough relief in his strained limbs to relax and finally let sink down fully.  You press right up snug against his ass and start to mate him right. 

Eridan practically howls when he finally, _finally_ gives against your knot, greedy nook sucking it in with a wet pop.  You feel more cold slurry splash at your feet; he must have come again.  He’s perfect, his nook is perfect.  You set your feet a little wider apart, and take him with several good thrusts, lashing hard against his clamping walls.  You fuck him like you mean to breed, until you can feel the pressure in your head and your groin both start to give at the same time in a deep, gut clenching ripple.  

Pressing your face against his back, you trill out long and loud as you spill, and his answering calls rake your insides to pieces. Your perfect little broodmate that you love and loath, he’s fucking drinking you, seedflap fully open and pulling in as much of your slurry as he can hold, which is still less than you can give.  You hold him so tight against you he’s almost pushed your sheath flat against your body, and your knot seals him up perfect as you pump him full in shuddering waves.  By the end of his cycle he’s going to be round and sloshing with your genetic material.  The mental image sends an aftershock through your shameglobes, squeezing out just the little bit left you didn’t know you had. 

“Cro, get off,”  Eridan wiggles under you.  Oh, oops you sort of pinned him to the floor.   

You still can’t resist chuckling in his ear, “Just did, babe.” 

“Fuck, seriously you’re heavy!”  He twist under you, but he hasn’t got the leverage to dislodge you.  You must still be feeling all that blissed out, post-orgasm goodness, because you take some pity and sit up, scooping him against your chest and lifting him out of his kind of pathetic puddle of spunk.  You’re knot is still engorged and locked snugly right past his entrance, keeping your own slurry from spilling out while his genesack tries to process it.  He won’t get grubbed up, not with just you.  You couldn’t swing hard enough in either direction to fill a proper quadrant, let alone vacillate between both pitch and flush that cleanly during the little time it will take him to finish this heat cycle.  

Still, you both sigh as you settle on the floor of your shared den with him all tucked up back to your chest, and horns framing your chin.  You have never been able to put a word to what you feel for him, blood, and horns, and sign like your own. It’s not a quadrant.  You don’t think a proper word exists.  You only know that he’s yours, now more than ever.  He pets his own belly, lightly skates his fingers over his still swollen, and sensitive sheath, and shivers. 

“How long does this last?” 

“What, a cycle or my knot?” 

“Both.” 

You roll your hips, just once, listen to him gasp.  “Knot will last a good twenty minutes chief.  First cycles aren’t that long though.  Only a couple days.” 

“Days!”  He whines, back to being petulant.  You kiss one of his horns and wonder how long it will be until he’s whining for other reasons again.  “How am I supposed to stand this for _days_!”

You grin into his hair where he can’t see.  “I’ll help.”


End file.
